


Little Bugger

by YellowLipstick



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Grumpy Thorin, M/M, Post-Battle of Five Armies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21876079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowLipstick/pseuds/YellowLipstick
Summary: Bilbo rescues an abandoned puppy in the marketplace and brings him home to Thorin.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dwalin/Ori (Tolkien)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 109





	1. Little Bugger

**Author's Note:**

> Ch. 1 : YellowLipstick  
Ch. 2 : an_odd_ducky

"Well I couldn't very well..." "Most inconvenient..." "I mean look at the pitiful thing..." "Little ears all droopy..." "What kind of a mean-spirited hobbit, or dwarf, Mister. 'I-could-have-been-King-Under-The-Mountain-if-not-for-my-infuriating-Burglar, would..."-Bilbo muttered to himself the entire way home from the market place, pausing every couple steps to mind the shifting, bouncing basket on the crook of his arm where their new pet was stuffed safely beneath the groceries; probably munching on their fresh-made soap and candles, or carrots and cabbages, but that was beside the point. The point was this: Bilbo simply couldn't leave the sad, little thing all by it's lonesome, huddled in the alley of the marketplace, shivering in the muddy puddle it had parked it's little bottom into.

He had been politely, thank-you-very-much, politely, arguing with the candlemaker over a price raise in the beeswax products that his grumpy dwarf husband preferred to goose fat tapers. It's not like the entire Shire didn't gossip in his wake already, no further harm done by refusing to pay an obscene price raise; which Bilbo was sure only happened to come about since that very candlemaker had heard of 'the rich ex-King's, Bilbo's dwarf-husband's favoring of the beeswax' from his insufferable cousin, Belladonna who would really be quite the death of him. 

When Bilbo had finally, begrudgingly paid the insufferable hobbit, he had turned to the stormy muck outside to find a sad, whimpering little puppy all alone in the rain. Well, that was that. They had a new pet. Bilbo wasn't entirely sure what kind of dog it was, it was oddly shaped to be honest. He had a very long body and short, wrinkly, little legs. He also had a long snout and perfectly triangular ears. He was adorable. He was dirty. That would be seen to immediately, well, immediately after his husband was introduced to their new addition in the house.

"No," the scowling dwarf grunted, arms all crossed, chest all puffed, as if he were bartering with a bloody elf for all Bilbo could see.

"Thorin. Yes," the stubborn hobbit scowled back, perfecting it over the years they'd spent pottering around his hobbit hole back in the Shire, "We're all alone here but for your nephews and cousins when they choose to stop in, which isn't all that often I might say-"

"It's a far journey! You know that," Thorin rumbled while his brows furrowed in a rumply frown.

"As I was saying," huffed the tiny hobbit, "Your nephews can only visit so often, and they might as well be puppies themselves, you know that! He was, Thorin, he was all alone; I mean what was I supposed to do? Just leave him there?" Bilbo implored, startling himself when his voice hitched slightly and his eyes pricked; he was clearly already attached to the whiny, rolley, long-bodied puppy. 

Bilbo pushed past his grumbling beast of a husband in the doorway and moved inside the warmed home, fire crackling merrily from the sitting room on his right as he picked the squirming, black puppy out of the basket and placed it on the floor.

"What kind of dog is that anyway? Is he even a useful hound?" Thorin grumped from the corner where he had taken residence on their cozy sofa, managing to look infuriatingly majestic even surrounded by Bilbo's crocheted throws.

Bilbo scratched his head before crouching down by the tiny animal, sniffing around the corners of the room now, "Well...his body is long? His legs are...short. Maybe he's...a digger? One of those hounds for hunting badgers the humans like to breed? What do they call them...Oh! A Dachshund?"

Thorin harumphed before bellowing out a laugh as the little puppy raised his leg and peed all over the floor while Bilbo sighed and went to grab a dishcloth.

"Well I won't be cleaning up after the little bugger, that's to be sure, Master Burglar!" Thorin chortled as Bilbo stomped back into the room, trying not to frighten the darn thing even as he felt irritation huff his chest while he bent over to clean up the puddle.

The moon rose high, full in the sky that eve, and the crickets were chirping cheerfully with the frogs from the eaves of the windows, all come out to play after the rainstorm had passed. When Bilbo left his post in the kitchen, every dish from their dinner clean and miraculously un-scathed after Thorin's constant ill-treatment of his fine, bone dish set, he made a quick peek out the window over the sink to check on his Oak tree; a tradition of comfort though it had been years since Thorin Oakenshield had shown up on Bilbo's doorstep, harried and lost, grumpy as ever, but apologetic-wanting to come in though he was indeed late for tea-time, having found Bilbo's home by the tiny, Oak sapling that stood strong in the side-garden, grown of the acorn token the hobbit had nestled away ever since their stint at Beorn's.

"Oh-" the hobbit breathed when he wandered back into the sitting room, looking to take his ruffled husband off to bed, and finding the large dwarf curled up in one of Bilbo's fluffy blankets, while the little puppy, who they had yet to name, was cuddled around Thorin's neck, nestled amongst his thick, warm hair.

They made a cute pair; and Bilbo was delighted to observe the small animal closely and note tiny, tan-colored dots above the puppy's eyes that matched his paws. The hobbit sighed happily and pokered the fire, though the coals were glowing embers now, before snuggling himself onto the sofa with the slumbering pair and pulling an extra blanket over his legs.

Right before he fell into dreams, Bilbo snorted and smiled, "little bugger indeed" he mumbled; well he was glad he had rescued the little buggar, and it seemed, so was his husband.


	2. Goblin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin and Ori come for a visit and are not expecting what they find.

Dwalin slid from his pony and landed in the dirt with a thud, stretching and rubbing his sore backside.

Mahal, he hated ponies.

The pony seemed just as glad to be rid of him, nickering and tossing his head in the direction of the stable, and Dwalin grunted a warning at it before walking around the beast to check on Ori.

"I'll look to the ponies, lad. You go let them know we've made it." Ori grinned at him and pulled his saddlebags off, stumbling toward the door in excitement. Even his exhaustion wouldn't put a damper on his eagerness to see Thorin and Bilbo after so long.

Dwalin led the ponies into the stable, wrinkling his nose at the smell of animals. Ponies were a necessity for long journeys, but he didn't have to like them. He was halfway through unsaddling Ori's mare when he heard the scream.

He lunged for his axes where he had removed them and set them aside, cursing himself for letting his guard down. At the home of friends or not, danger could be around any corner, and the sound of Ori's scream had sent his heart into his toes.

"Goblin!" He heard someone shout as he tore for the yard, axes in hand. He crashed through the stable doors, face twisted into a battle grimace. Goblins! In this part of the country? He would tear them all to shreds before they could set so much as a finger on Ori.

Except that he didn't see a single goblin as he turned, bristling, looking for the bloodthirsty enemies. He spotted Ori, sprawled on the ground and backed against a tree, gripping a stick as a weapon. There was a barrage of noise and movement and Dwalin leapt toward it, but the source of the disturbance was far too small to be an adult goblin.

Bilbo came leaping down the front steps and into the yard just as Dwalin tossed an axe aside and snatched the snarling creature from the ground, holding it up in front of him by the scruff of its neck and raising his other axe to dispatch the ugly nuisance.

"Dwalin, no!" Bilbo shouted, nearly getting struck by Dwalin's weapon as he dashed forward and grabbed the animal away from danger. Dwalin pulled his axe back just in time, stumbling back and swearing, half certain he'd just hit the crazy hobbit on accident.

"Bilbo!" He shouted, regaining his balance.

"Curse you, hobbit, I nearly sliced ye right in two!"

"What are you doing?" Bilbo demanded, which was not the reply Dwalin had been expecting at all. "You almost killed him!"

"And I might still if you'll get out of the way!" Dwalin shouted back, squaring his shoulders again.

"What's all this shouting?" Came a stern voice from the doorway, and out stepped Thorin, dressed much plainer than when Dwalin had last seen him, but still with the regal tilt of his chin, the tone of voice that indicated he had never quite given up his birthright.

"Thorin," Dwalin acknowledged, bowing his head. Ori scrambled to his feet again and did the same.

"It is good to see you again, my old friends," Thorin said, the edge fading from his voice and replaced by a rare smile as he stepped forward to greet them. "It has been too long." He embraced them both, slapping them heartily on the back.

"It's seems we've left you alone in the Shire too long," Dwalin quipped as he turned his stony gaze back to the mongrel in Bilbo's arms. "What devilry have you been dragged into?"

"Oh, hush, you great nasty dwarf," Bilbo rolled his eyes and dumped the animal into Thorin's arms before pulling Dwalin into a hug, then Ori. "It's a dog, not a demon. Dwarves keep dogs, do they not? For hunting? Or companionship?" He asked, brushing dust off his waistcoat.

"Er, no. We don't usually," Ori timidly supplied as Dwalin gave Bilbo a disgusted look. Bilbo blinked at the three of them.

"Dwarves have never been overly fond of animals," Thorin supplied, handing back the dog before putting a large hand to the small of Bilbo's back. "Occasionally, one of us might keep a mole, and I knew several batkeepers in the blue mountains, but it was rare. There are few animals who like to live out their days under rock and earth...."

"...and there are few dwarves who want to spend their lives above it," Bilbo supplied, giving Thorin that forlorn look that sometimes came over him.

"But there are a few," Thorin answered, rubbing Bilbo's back. He turned back to their guests. "Come into the house and have something to eat. I want to know everything that's going on in the Mountain."

"Yes, you must tell us about the journey. Did you stop off at Beorn's on the way?"

They turned toward the hobbit hole and Bilbo set his dog back on the ground again, reasonably certain that Dwalin would leave him alone now. They stopped when they realized neither Dwalin nor Ori had moved, both staring at the short creature, Dwalin with a look of disgust while Ori looked more uncertain.

"It's alright," Bilbo said. "Goblin won't hurt you."

"Ye've named it?" Dwalin asked, looking at Thorin in astonishment. His mind put the pieces together and he realized the shouting he had heard earlier was Bilbo calling to his dog.

"Goblin," he said flatly.

"Yes, well," Bilbo said stiffly. "I wanted to call him Longfellow. But this fool called him Goblin once in a fit and he's never answered to anything but Goblin since. So there you have it." Bilbo scowled at Thorin, obviously still bitter at the rejection of his choice.

"Well, he's ugly enough to be a goblin, I'll give ye that," Dwalin said, and chuckled to himself for the first time since they had arrived.

Beside him, Ori nodded soberly, looking at Goblin with pity, and Bilbo rolled his eyes again.


End file.
